


That's Great, It Starts With an Earthquake

by Azure_Lynx



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, But ambiguously in the future, Multi, Steve gets head trauma again!, Stoncy Week 2020, Whump, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23900983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Lynx/pseuds/Azure_Lynx
Summary: Four monster invasions in three years seemed a little excessive, if you asked Steve. Not that anybody was asking Steve.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 7
Kudos: 172





	That's Great, It Starts With an Earthquake

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Taking care of the other(s) when sick or injured AND Blurting out a confession of love  
> Title from The End of The World As We Know It by REM

Four monster invasions in three years seemed a little excessive, if you asked Steve. Not that anybody was asking Steve. Monsters, him getting injured, no one asking his opinion: what else was new?

What was new was that he was with Nancy and Jonathan again for the first time since they’d squared off in the house with the Demogorgon. What was new was that he thought he might actually die this time. 

What was new was his heart doing a stupid little tap dance about how close Jonathan was, with his soft hands on Steve’s face while Steve leaned against a tree and tried to ignore how much pain he was in.

“Steve, you need to stay awake,” Nancy insisted, voice edged subtly with panic that he knew she didn’t want him or anyone to hear. 

“Can’t. Sleepy,” he replied, feeling his eyes trying to shutter. Nancy always wanted more from him than he could give.

“You’re concussed,” Jonathan said, probably to Steve - that had to be the ‘you,’ right? - but he didn’t quite understand why Jonathan thought telling him would be remotely helpful. “C’mon, Steve, you’ve gotta stay awake.”

Jonathan’s hands were soft on his face, but also kind of sticky, Steve noticed. He raised his hand to wipe away some of the stickiness at his hairline, and it came back red. “Huh.”

“Nancy, it’s _bad_ ,” Jonathan was saying. “He’s lost a fair amount of blood and he’s not mentally here.” 

A muscle in her jaw twitched at the same time as her fingers on her rifle did. She looked beautiful. And scary.

Steve decided it was very important that she knew this.

Jonathan cracked a small smile at that. “Yep. Beautiful and scary. And she’ll kick my ass if I let you die, so you’re going to have to hold on for me, okay?”

He and Jonathan were friends now, Steve knew that much, but he didn’t think he’d actually fixed things with Nancy. Didn’t know if he ever could. He shook his head. “No, you’re - you’re her favorite,” he slurred. “It’s...she won’t worry ‘bout me.”

“Steve, that’s not true.” Nancy’s voice cracked, but she didn’t turn around to look at him, keeping her eyes on the surrounding forest. Scanning. Protecting. “I’ll be really mad if you die, okay?”

He shook his head again, in spite of the fact that every time he did felt like a knitting needle driving through his skull. “Nah. Don’t worry. I love you, I don’t mind -” Well, he didn’t want to die, exactly, but he was glad it had been him getting hurt instead of Nancy or Jonathan. 

Jonathan’s hand tensed against his cheek. Steve squinted at him. “Think I love you too,” he added, not wanting Jonathan to feel left out, “but my head hurts too much to know for sure. Glad you two - I want you to be happy.” He waved his hand weakly in what was supposed to be a very nonchalant manner. “Don’t worry about me.”

Nancy let out a strangled sound, something like a sob. 

Jonathan shook his head. “No, you do not get to tell me you’re in love with me concussed and then die.” He gritted his teeth. “No. That’s not how any of this works.”

He heard Max screeching in the distance, and that’s what spurred him on more than anything else. “No, no, no...” Steve scrabbled against the tree but his legs wouldn’t work. 

Jonathan put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You can’t - your leg is broken.” 

Shit. Because of course.

“We need - we need to - the kids,” Steve forced out. “The kids!”

“They’re with Hop,” Jonathan promised. “He’s taking care of them. You just need to _stay awake_ until they get to us.”

“ _Max_ ,” Steve insisted.

Nancy glanced back at them. “They’re supposed to be half a mile east. They’ll be here soon.”

There was a giant flash, turning the forest white for just a minute. At first Steve thought it might just have been his head, but Jonathan blinked blearily and Nancy swore, swinging around. “What the fuck was that?” she demanded.

The next sound Steve heard was a bang that seemed to be associated with the flash but eerily delayed. After that, it was Will’s labored yell.

Jonathan blanched. “Nancy…”

She nodded. “Fine. Go, bring them here. I’ve got Steve.”

Jonathan took off faster than Steve had ever seen him run. Nancy took two steps back and dropped to the ground next to Steve, but she was still squatting, a coiled spring ready to go.

“Nancy…” he started, then stopped. He didn’t know where he was going with anything. “I just -”

“Don’t,” she snapped, and if he wasn’t crazy over the concussion, she was sniffling, though she still had her back to him. “Don’t you dare, Steve Harrington.”

“Head hurts.”

“No _shit_.” She sighed. “Why did you do that? Why just...jump in its path? I have a gun, Steve!”

“Too slow,” Steve replied, still slurring. “You wouldn’t - I need to keep you safe.”

“Not at the expense of yourself!”

He shrugged, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute and then forcing them open. It was dark, but the surrounding trees were too hazy for just nighttime. “You matter more.”

“That’s not _true_ ,” she replied fiercely. 

“Mm. They’d be a lot worse off without you.” Nancy was a badass. Nancy held the gun. Nancy was clever and quick on her feet. Nancy was someone you wanted with you in an emergency. 

“How do you think I’d do without you?” she demanded.

Steve snorted. “Better. You wouldn’t be -” He gestured down at himself, then over at her, forced to stick around because he was mangled and incapacitated. Hovering over him. Stuck. 

He only ever held her back.

He didn’t realize he’d said that out loud until he realized his face was in her hands. “You _don’t_ ,” she insisted. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington, and I never stopped loving you. I was just - it was a bad time, okay? But I’m saying it now. I love you.”

He wondered if she was just saying it because she thought he was dying. He certainly felt like he was dying. 

She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and started tending to the cuts on his hairline. “Why do they always hit you in the face?” she mumbled, probably more to herself. But she did have a point. This, the Russians, Billy Hargrove - now fuck, there was a guy he hadn’t thought about in awhile - and -

“It was Jonathan. The first time.”

“What?”

“Who hit me in the face.” Steve laughed, slightly delirious. “I iced it with a coke. I think that’s when I fell in love with him, but I’ve been too afraid to ever figure it out.”

Or at least that’s what he meant to say, but he can judge by the knitting of Nancy’s eyebrows that it came out a lot less coherently. 

“Yeah, well, when we make it out of here, you and Jonathan can talk about fighting and feelings and whatever else you need. For now, though, I need you to _stay awake._ ” The last bit ratcheted upwards in intensity as Steve felt his eyes beginning to droop.

What was the point? At the end of the year, Nancy and Jonathan (and Robin, he added hazily, who was god knows where right now) would be going to college and he’d be left here with a bunch of high school sophomores to fight whatever fucking monsters came to threaten this bullshit town.

He groaned. “This sucks.”

“Well, head trauma isn’t exactly supposed to be fun, especially not your fourth time.” Nancy was sitting now too, rifle in her lap, hand over his hand. 

Steve laughed suddenly as a rather absurd thought occurred to him. “Oh my god, I’ve had more concussions than sex this year.”

“What?” Nancy turned her head to look at him.

He felt compelled to explain himself.

“I haven’t had anyone since you. You’re the one for me. Well, also maybe Jonathan. I don’t -”

She squinted at him and cut him off. “Steve, I was more concerned about the concussions part.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fair.” He snorted. “No wonder I can’t get into college.”

“ _Steve_!” She seemed about ready to tell him off again, though he wasn’t sure what for, when they heard the cracking of a branch. 

Nancy was on her feet in a flash, aiming the rifle in the direction of the noise. 

One blonde, sweaty, and slightly bloodied high school senior pushed her way out of the bushes, a light clipped on her waistband and a nail-bat on her shoulder. Steve’s nail-bat, to be precise. 

Guess he found Robin.

Behind her emerged a gaggle of teens, Jonathan, and Hopper bringing up the rear. 

“Cavalry’s here.” Robin grinned. “Let’s get this headcase some medical care.”

**Author's Note:**

> And here we've got another And prompt! This one was fun, though someone beat me to the "Steve gets more head trauma" concept because we all agree that he just can't stop getting the shit kicked out of him, especially his skull. Slightly concussed emotionally vulnerable Steve is a good Steve.  
> Thanks for reading! See you tomorrow.


End file.
